


The Game, and the After

by dugindeep (hotsauce)



Series: soccer 'verse [12]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Kid Fic, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 06:51:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotsauce/pseuds/dugindeep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared finally sees Jensen play and his little infatuation becomes a <i>thing</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game, and the After

“Holy cow!” Nathan nearly screeches as he heartily squeezes Jared’s hand. Well, as heartily as a nine-year-old can. “Look at him go!”

Jared looks across the field and stalls. Unable to process anything really, because all he sees is Jensen racing over grass, deftly dribbling, leading the ball, avoiding defenders, spinning out of their way, and then racing again before cutting a sharp kick at the ball. It flies through the air, a sharp angle from where he was facing the net. Just as Jared can even catch on, he sees another guy in a smooth black jersey jump in the air and head butt the ball with enough accuracy that the goalie _barely_ snags a fingertip on it. It spins with the touch but still slips into the net.

Jensen’s arms are in the air as he sprints over to his teammates. They jump and run and cheer, and it’s just like in the movies and on TV. This is a celebration.

Jared hasn’t moved, can’t. He’s watching in awe, logging all the ways that Jensen … Jensen like _this_ … hits him in all the right spots. The black v-neck jersey leads way to the sweat pooling in the dip of his throat. The sleeves rolled up and under, showing off his sculpted arms. And the shorts … the shorts end just at the knee but with every run, they swish higher and Jared catches the perfect shape of Jensen’s thighs, the muscles bulking with each intense movement. 

Nathan tugs his hand, pulling hard but hardly managing to move them. “ _Daaaaad_ ,” he whines. “Are we gonna sit down? You’re giant buffalo head is blocking everyone.”

When he looks down on Nathan, he’s ready to scowl at the _buffalo head_ line, but he’s actually smirking at the image of Jensen’s athleticism on display. 

They find an empty spot in the stands to watch the rest of the game, but Jared’s still captivated with Jensen’s play, with the intensity of this intramural game. He knows it’s the playoffs, knows how important this is to Jensen, but he’s still shocked by how fervent the play is. In Jared’s head it’s just a rec league. In Jensen’s it’s the big one, all laid out, waiting to be won.

As the game goes on, as he catches Jensen’s sharp jaunts across the field, the quick turns, the expert kicks and dribbling, it’s becomes more than just a rec game. It’s suddenly everything he wants for the rest of the day, the weekend, his life. 

Because in truth? He’s so incredibly turned on he can’t manage to track the score or even when the teams change sides and Jensen heads to the left instead of right. He’s busy, too busy, staring and gawking and all but drooling. 

When they find Jensen after the game, sweaty and chest heaving, spiky hair in every which way, Jared wants to touch. But the small hand curled into his reminds him of other obligations. 

Nathan jumps towards Jensen and is beaming. “Two goals!” he cheers. “You scored two goals!”

“I sure did!” Jensen’s laughing, bright and tan and ecstatic, and happily giving a high five then reaching for Nathan and playfully yanking the arm around. This is Jensen with Nathan, and Jared’s desire dissipates into warmth. 

“It was so cool when you hit the sliding kick and just missed the guy’s head!” Nathan laughs as Jensen playfully wrestles around, arms slung around Nathan’s shoulders and tugging him in different directions. 

Jared catches how sweaty and worn out Jensen is. There’s still a flicker of want cruising his veins, but he also gets a touch of concern with the way Jensen’s shoulders droop and his smiles don’t quite reach the far corners of his mouth. He moves close, palm tight but soothing against Jensen’s neck. “I _was_ gonna offer ice cream … ”

Jensen tosses Nathan an amused smile. “It _is_ tradition."

Nathan’s cheering and jumping, tugging on Jared’s hand, but Jared frowns. “You look pretty awful.”

“Well, aren’t you charming?” 

His hand smoothes over the side of Jensen’s head, doing everything to not focus too hard on the slide of perspiration under his fingertips. As he tries to hide a smirk, Jared’s lips twitch for a quick moment before he looks back to Nathan. “Gotta get the little rugrat to Sandy’s. Right, buddy?”

Nathan frowns then scowls, all but pounding a foot into the ground. “I don’t wanna go to Savannah’s.”

Jared chuckles as they walk to the car, revealing all the ways Nathan could actually enjoy his neighbor’s birthday party. After he gets Nathan into the truck, he turns on Jensen with sharp eyes. He takes a full, deep breath to steady himself because Jensen still looks incredible, especially as he rakes fingers through the wet spikes of hair, fussing them back and forth. Jared grabs hold of the bicep as it’s curled in the air, squeezes carefully. “I’ll come by after I drop him off.”

“Yeah, no problem” he answers easily and then leans to the side to wave at Nathan. “Thanks for comin’, buddy!”

Nathan waves enthusiastically, all bright smiles. “Can we come next week? See you in the finals?!”

“Sure hope so,” he smiles broadly. “As long as you don’t have another lame birthday party to go to.”

“I know, _right_?”

“Hey!” Jared breaks in. “You mind not encouraging him?”

Jensen grins. “Not at all.”

*

After dropping Nathan off at Sandy’s and all but racing to Jensen’s, he’s impatient about not getting an answer to the front door. He lets himself in the tricky patio door, finagling the lock just so, and works his way through the house. He’s anything but disappointed when he hears the shower running. 

In seconds, he’s undressed, slipping into the stall and pushing Jensen, chest first, against the wall. 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Jensen pants in surprise. “That better be you.”

Jared’s palms are immediately cupping Jensen's ass and then sliding around and groping his thighs. “Fuck, Jensen. You have no idea.”

“Think I’m catching on,” he murmurs as Jared’s mouth sucks along his shoulder, biting over the knob of his spine. 

“God, fuck,” Jared whines, pushing in tight but not doing anything more than kissing and licking the wet skin, tasting the fresh water of the shower mixing with sweat Jensen hasn’t yet washed away. His fingers keep flexing against Jensen’s upper legs, squeezing and gripping, feeling the tension in the skin and tendons. “You were … shit. Should’ve watched you play earlier.”

Jensen winds an arm back, palm sliding over Jared’s side as he juts back into him. “Been tellin’ ya to come.”

“You have any idea how fucking hot it was?” he asks with dark heat before dropping to his knees. Jensen keens, widens his stance, but Jared doesn’t go there. Instead, he slides to the side and kisses, sucks, bites into Jensen’s thigh. 

“Fuck!” Jensen whines with the sharp bite, kicking his leg out. But then he’s whimpering at Jared looking up with the intention clear in his eyes while he keeps _nibbling_ on skin. He smirks down on him, watching Jared’s purpose, his focus, his obsession. Jensen even flexes just so, taunting, and Jared moans, circling both hands around the leg, squeezing, groping and moving up high. 

Jared keeps his mouth on Jensen’s thigh, but his hands skate up, one squeezing the back of his leg and the other sliding up and under Jensen’s balls. He smirks with Jensen’s groan and keeps fondling, fingers slipping between them, over them, cradling. Jensen’s legs tense up and it’s _exactly_ what Jared wants, because his lips are wide in a grin as he continues sucking bruises and nipping at the muscles that flex and relax with each movement.

It’s the tease of the hand _right there_ , and the mouth _so close_ that sets Jensen off, mumbling and moving against Jared’s hand as it keeps caressing him. Jared sits up and then works his mouth higher, still suckling the skin and taking in the feel of each tiny tendon moving beneath his lips. He nudges Jensen, turning him against the wall, and bites into the dip of Jensen’s hips. He’s smiling against the skin as Jensen slides into his hand, getting frantic as his fingers thread through Jared’s damp hair, tugging him closer. 

Jared’s hand is still gentle but it moves faster as his other hand squeezes the very upper joint of Jensen’s thigh, thumb and forefinger reaching to press into the low curve of Jensen’s ass. He looks up, feeling his seduction tip into Jensen’s desire, seeing the dark eyes staring down on him, taking each tug of Jensen’s hand. “These legs,” Jared moans while shaking his head. “Your fucking thighs, you have no idea.”

Jensen’s voice is low, deep, full of need, as he says, “Just keep going. Keep … Jared. Keep going.”

He slides to the side, changes hands, his left now groping Jensen’s balls and his right squeezing at the thigh as he grants attention and kisses to the other leg. He murmurs against the skin as he moves high to sucks marks across the hip.

But the angle of his hand is all different for Jensen, so different that he’s instantly rutting faster, harder, fingers tight in the hair and now _yanking_. Jared finally moves home, licks over the head of Jensen’s cock, the red throb heavy in his mouth as he takes it down. 

“Sonuvabitch,” Jensen whimpers then rattles off, “you cunt,” as he arches forward, the immediate heat of Jared’s mouth all too much and he comes seconds later. 

Jared strokes fingers over the thighs, can’t stop touching, feeling them clench beneath him as Jensen twitches. 

Soon enough, Jensen slides down the tiles, all loose and worn out, long limbs folded over Jared as he shakes his head. Even when Jared leans in to kiss, thick tongued and wet. “Fuck,” he mumbles. “Didn’t know you had a _thing_.”

Jared snorts between kisses. “Couldn’t dump Nathan fast enough.”

“You’re a horrible father,” Jensen chastises, but it’s lessened by the hand stroking over Jared’s hair. “What’d you have to give up?”

He nearly pouts. “Chucky Cheese next weekend.” Jensen chuckles and Jared continues, “And mini golf. You’re so going with us. This _is_ your fault after all.”

Jensen’s hand clamps around the back of Jared’s neck and then drags him in for a messy kiss. “This my punishment?”

“Yeah, it totally is.”

Tongues are sloppy and they’re moving in tight, barely caring that the shower’s still running and that they’re sprawled on the hard floor of the stall. “Think I’m okay with that.”


End file.
